It must end tonight
by Pure Raven
Summary: Harry is due to start his 6th year within the next week,but has no plans to return to Hogwarts. He feels he has inflicted too much pain the people be loves, and it were best that they did not see him again...(Warning - Suicidal themes)


Disclaimer: JK Rowling is a genius, these characters belong to her, not me.. please don't sue me, I'm just playing with them  
  
Summary: Harry's not a happy chappie.. He feels responsible for the pain inflicted on others.. he feels it is best he does not return to Hogwarts...what will happen next?  
  
Its my first fan fic, so its not all that good, but I'm hoping to improve! Tell me whats wrong with it and I will change it!  
  
Harry sat in Dudley's second bedroom at the Dursley's staring at his magic books and trunk with distain going over the events of the past months yet again. He felt the presence of his wand weighing him down in his pocket. He took it out with disgust and threw it hard against the wall. It gave an enormous bang and a cloud of red smoke and sparks came out of the tip. He heard a Dursley downstairs scream, and the thumping on the stairs as they made their way up to investigate the noise which no doubt came from 'the boys room' and sounded very 'unnatural'. He was in for it now he thought, but it didn't really matter anymore. He had no intention of going back to Hogwarts, and the Dursley's had to keep him, besides, bars on the windows weren't all that bad once you get used to them, Harry reasoned with himself. The door was flung open and Harry turned slowly to face the torrent of abuse that he knew was coming, but nearly fell off his bed when he saw a nervous shivering frightened Winky looking up at him with her big bright eyes, still wearing her grubby clothes.  
  
'Harry Potter sir', she stammered. 'You should nots be making thats much noise sir' she said fearfully, 'We do not wants to attract attention to ourselves'. Harry, still a little surprise didn't know what to say, but quickly recovered from his shock to question the house elf. 'Winky, what are you doing here? The Dursley's are home, they will find you here'. 'No sirs they have got to goes out. Winky has come with orders from mister Dumbledore sir.' A lump formed at the back of his through and he felt a wave of emotion come over him. Hearing his name still brought back memories of that night two months ago. Harry hadn't talked to anyone in the wizarding world since he stepped through the gateway from platform nine and three quarters. He had not written to Ron or Hermione, they had written many letter, but they remained unopened in the compartment in the floor.  
  
Thoughts of Sirius occupied his time, and with this came thoughts of Dumbledore, that foolish old man who had let Sirius die, and left him, Harry, just Harry, with the responsibility of defeating the most evil wizard ever known. He hated everything about the wizarding world, and there was no way he was going back to Hogwarts. He preferred to stay at the Dursley, which was an indication of how much he hated everyone else.  
  
'Go away Winky' said Harry. 'Whatever Dumbledore wants to say I don't want to hear it. I though I made that quite clear.' 'Mister Dumbledore is worried that you are feeling depressed and don't want to return to Hogwarts.' Replied Winky backing away slightly. 'Well you can go and tell Mister Dumbledore that I don't want his fucking sympathy, and he can shove his concern right up his wrinkled old backside for all I care.' Yelled Harry, the repression of the holidays forgotten, as he voiced what he had been longing to say, even if it was to poor Winky, who looked like she was pleading with the floor to swallow her up, as she blinked away tears. But Harry continued despite this, he had waited a long time, and it was all coming out, no one could stop it. 'You go and tell Dumbledore that I'm not coming back and there's nothing he can do about it. You tell him that I don't care anymore, he can fight his own battles, he can go and run his stupid school, I'm not going back there, to all those cynical faces, all those impossible question, all those stares, Ron and Hermione are better off without me....' at that point his voice broke, as he thought about how much he missed them both and longed to see them. But he couldn't bring this burden on them, not again, not now. 'Dumbledore warned Winky this might happen' said Winky slowly Suddenly Winky grabbed Harry tightly by the wrist, and he felt as though he was traveling at high speed towards something. It wasn't quite the same feeling as a portkey, and he defiantly wasn't apparating. Suddenly it stopped, and he was in Dumbledore's office. There were no longer broken inventions, overturned tables and books strewn around the floor, as had been when Harry left it two months before. For some reason that angered Harry. Dumbledore just wanted everything to go back to normal did he? Harry though angrily. That old good for nothing senile senior citizen, Uncle Vernon was right, he is a crackpot old fool, he had no idea, no idea at all, and he had the impertinence to summon him to his office like some mere servant to make sure that he had no guilty feeling about any of this. Harry's eyes grew narrow, as he looked around the office, expecting at any minute flames to shoot out of his eyes, and burn the whole bloody thing down to the ground. It is the least that he deserves thought Harry bitterly.  
  
'Ah Harry', a familiar calming old voice said, and Dumbledore turned from a window at the back of the room to come and sit down opposite him at his desk. 'Please have a seat Harry', he said softly, his warm kind eyes indicated to a chair across the table to him. For a moment Harry felt more relaxed that he had in a long time, until the memories of the last few months wafted past like some foul smell that he could not escape from. He sat down, but he sat on the edge of the chair, and his stature became rigid, but Dumbledore took no notice of it, and continued to stare at him with warm but now slightly concerned eyes as he began to speak. 'Harry, it has come to my attention that you have not been writing to your friends, and its one week before school is due to start, and I know you haven't been to Diagon Alley to collect your texts. Is there anything you wish to tell me?' Harry felt the anger burning again now very fiercely. Anything he wanted to tell him? Would that be the part about his godfather dying because of him, the fact that he risked his friend's lives for some silly dream, or the fact that he had to kill Voldemort? And that old codger was sitting there asking if anything was wrong! What the hell is right? He though angrily, images of him flying across the table to strangle Dumbledore came to mind, but he pushed them aside. Harry sat for a moment trying to contain his anger and said very quietly... 'I'm not coming back.' Dumbledore raised his eyebrow slightly and sighed. Harry noticed he looked like he had aged greatly in the last few months, and the powerful wizard now seemed frail to him 'Harry,' he began. 'What you have to do, I would not wish on my worst enemy, but you cannot run away from your problem, because wherever you are they will catch up to you.' 'I can do what I like. I've already caused enough trouble.' Said Harry firmly. Dumbledore gave a slight smile and answered. 'Harry, in your position you must cause trouble to get to the final result, as you no doubt have learnt.' Said Dumbledore still smiling But Harry was fuming by now. 'You think this is funny? I suppose you think this is all a big laugh, watching me fail all the time, everything I have to do, watching me fight him must be hilarious.' The smile vanished from his face and he sighed again, yet continued. 'Harry, I know, just as well as you do that this is no joke, and had I been in your situation I do not think I would have done anything different. But Harry you must learn that ultimately we do choose our destiny, but our fate is left up to the stars, or so I am told by Firenze. Some things must happen in order for other things to happen, and you must have been chosen for a reason. Having said that, no one wants to put the people they love in danger, no one'  
  
'Well I have already done that, and I'm not going to do it again. Professor Trelawney is an old fraud, the prophesy was made up, and I am going home now, if, that is, you will let me leave, or will you keep me here just so I can hear more of your incoherent ramblings?' Dumbledore looked hurt and stood up wearily. 'Very well Harry, I can see that nothing useful will come of you staying here. I just want to say one more thing before you leave.' Dumbledore looked up into Harry's eyes, Harry could have sworn he saw a tear in his eye, but dismissed it, he was still mad, and compassion was the last thing he wanted to feel for Dumbledore. 'Harry, we cannot change what has happened in our lives, no amount of magic, charms, potions or even Time Turners can take back what we all have lost. But although we have lost much, there will always be hope left for us. We must remember what we still have, or that may be lost too. If we forget about what we still have, it is only then we loose hope. And for you Harry, I hope that there is still hope left.'  
  
Harry hated in when Dumbledore became rather cryptic. He had done so the year before, and that ended up in Sirius's death. Harry, trying to block out Dumbledore's last words, yanked open the hefty polished oak doors and stormed out of Dumbledore's office. Winky was by the stairs, cowering as she saw Harry semi enraged. 'Take me home Winky,' he said a little too forcefully. Hastily seeing that Winky was scared beyond believe, he attempted a sympathetic smile, which he was sure looked nothing like a smile, and said in a softer voice... 'Please Winky.' Winky managed a slight smile, and held Harry's hand. He felt the same sensation as a before, as he whizzed back to the Dursley's.  
  
'Goodnight master Potter' said Winky and vanished, leaving Harry once again alone in Dudley's second bedroom. Once he looked around again all the memories came flooding back, and Harry was taken quite aback.  
  
He wasn't sure how long he sat there for, he didn't even hear the Dursely's return or go to bed. Everything was racing through his mind again, Sirius being blasted through the veil at the Department of Mysteries over and over again...Ron unconscious...Hermione unconscious, Death Eaters cursing his closets friends, His parents....happy until he was born.... He remember again why he couldn't go on. 'I'm a murder' said Harry softly. He noticed his photo album was open on the picture of his mother and father on their wedding day. Sirius featured predominantly in the picture, his handsome face alight as a big grin crossed his face. What Harry would give to see that grin again. And then his eyes traveled to his parents, looking lovingly into each others eyes...like they should still be doing today. Harry shut the book angrily, tears pouring once more down his cheek. No one understood him, no one. This had been one of the hardest summers yet. He had no one to talk to, he had never missed his mother and father and Sirius more...he wanted them here so bad, so they could wrap their arms around him and tell him everything was going to be alright, even if it wasn't. Harry's tears intensified, at the thought of being to reach out and touch them...  
  
Instead of reassurances, he had put himself in solitary confinement, nothing but the occasional tantrum from Dudley, and the leftovers of dinner shoved unceremoniously thought the doggy flap on him bedroom door to keep him company. He knew things could only get worse. So tonight was the night, he decided, no more hurt, not more pain, no more stupid prophesies, no more people pretending they cared. It was best he would do it. It was early in the morning now, the Durselys wouldn't even find out until later, when it would be too late. Dumbledore's words drifted into his head 'And for you Harry, I hope there is still hope left'. One last time he tried to search the deepest recesses of his soul, hoping against hopes, that there was something there that would give him hope, perhaps he would not have to do this. But alas, he could find none, all hope for him was lost, so he must continue to do what had been planned All the Dursley's were asleep, snoring loudly. Harry knew this was the night. This was the night when he would end it all, for him there was no tomorrow. He couldn't go on. He had killed his godfather, put his friends lives in danger, and was part of a prophecy that he couldn't possibly fulfill, it was best that he died. Harry clamber off his bed and extracted the loose floorboard under his bed to reveal his stash of goodies. The implement he was looking for was laying on the top, just where he had put it. A sharp kitchen knife he had stolen about a week back. The Dursley's wouldn't have noticed it go. Harry held it up it up, it glinted in the moonlight pouring out of Harry's open window.  
  
He lifted the knife up shakily, and positioned it on his wrists. He bit his lip determined not to make a sound. In a second he pressed down hard, and slashed right across. He let out a small cry and gasped as the pain registered itself. It was excruciating, it fell as though his was being ripped apart. He fell with a thump to the floor, holding his bleeding wrist, blood gushing out everywhere, a dark pool forming on the floor, and he lay there curled up rocking back and forth, his mouth wide open in a silent scream, his pale face contorted with pain, his eyes shut so tightly it might have burst his eyeballs. Tears sprayed down his face, and diluted the blood pool on the floor making gentle dots and swirls in it. His mind was racing, flashes of the past year whirred past like a muggle video on fast forward. For an eternity, Sirius death kept playing, so Harry could see the exact expression printed on his face, as he was thrown into the veil. The more he tried to block it from his mind, the sharper the image became. At last he could feel the pulsing of the warm gushing blood begin to slow down. Harry felt the room start to go hazy and his last thoughts were of Sirius, and then of his best friends, Ron and Hermione, their smiling faces that he would never see again, and then of a cackling victorious Voldemort.  
  
Everything went black  
  
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